


stolen roses smell sweeter

by wombatpop



Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Period-Typical Sexism, Sneaking Around, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wombatpop/pseuds/wombatpop
Summary: The universe had allowed her to love Lucy, and naturally, as if they were born for each other, Lucy loves her.
Relationships: Lucy Pevensie/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120643
Kudos: 4





	stolen roses smell sweeter

Lucy smooths her hair around her face, tucking it neatly beneath her winter hat, fluffing her skirt around her knees. It’s not as if Maggs would possibly care about things like that, but it still makes Lucy feel a little better, assuages her nerves. Old habits die hard.

She hasn’t celebrated a Valentine’s Day since Oliver Latt gave her one of his mother’s flowers, years ago. She had accepted it, courteous as nice girls should be, but it was as empty as polite smiles often are. It hadn’t made sense to her then, why she should feel so empty while other girls blushed and raved over their suitors. It felt nice, she could admit that. The attention. Later, she found herself chasing that high again, that feeling of being wanted. But it wasn’t just being desired - it was being normal. Existing in the way polite girls, good girls, loved girls do. But she tries not to do that any more.

She holds the single rose gingerly between her gloved fingertips, avoiding the uncut thorns. She couldn’t buy anything for fear of being forced to justify the expense later on, so she just secreted away one of her aunt’s prized flowers and hoped she wasn’t caught. So far, she’s managed to get all the way to Maggs’ bedroom window without detection. Her mittens are hardly managing to keep her fingers free of frostbite in the moments she spends waiting, as threadbare as they are. At least she has Edmund’s scarf around her chin, and two pairs of socks under her worn leather shoes.

That first night at the bar was magical, but they couldn’t make the trip every night. Maggs’ bedroom with its position at the back of the house became their little sanctuary. Its window faces the path going up the side of the house, sheltered from all sides by fences and brambles. At first Lucy tries to count the number of kisses she and Maggs share across the window’s threshold. But she loses count after the first visit.

On this visit, she knocks delicately on the glass pane, just loud enough for Maggs to hear without carrying to the rest of the house. Maggs arrives at the window with no delay, Lucy’s knock hardly completed before she’s wrestling the window open for Lucy to climb inside.

She greets Lucy with a kiss and a smile, as usual. Even now, months in, Lucy finds looking at her surreal, as though a pinch will spirit her away, back into Lucy’s imagination, too good to be true.

Lucy presents her with the stolen rose and regails her with the tale of her daylight robbery, much to Maggs’ delight. She was so quiet when they first met, still afraid to be as much of herself as Narnia had allowed her to be. But Maggs had managed to elicit those parts of herself she was more frightened to reveal. The loud, the bold, the assertive, the self-assured, trousers-wearing, swashbuckling side of Lucy. Not that she’s toting a sword these days - some things she can accept leaving behind. But the real world doesn’t want to see a woman break the rules. It doesn’t want to see her lead, defeat her enemies and save her friends. It doesn’t want to see her happy, it feels like. But with Maggs - brave, brave Maggs - Lucy can bring a little bit of Narnia with her always. And maybe that’s enough to change the world. For now, being happy is enough.

Lucy winds her fingers through Maggs’ dirty blonde hair. It’s a little longer at the back because she cuts it herself. She feels like they say ‘I love you’ a thousand times every time they see each other. Every time Maggs makes sure Lucy isn’t waiting out in the weather. Every time Lucy asks Maggs if she’s eaten that day. When Maggs runs her fingertips over Lucy’s palm like she can see some invisible ink no one else can. When Lucy repairs Maggs’ ripped trousers for her. When they ask, ‘when can I see you again?’ When they first kiss after a few days absence. When they hug each other goodbye. When their eyes meet in public and they break into involuntary, bursting smiles. Again and again, Lucy feels her heart swell, too full for her chest. But today, she lets that fullness overflow, no longer content with subtext and inference. It’s so unlike both of them, to leave things unsaid. So she doesn’t. And when she finally speaks those three words, their sentiment so familiar but their expression so new, Maggs buries her face in Lucy’s chest.

Lucy is surprised, rushing to ask if she’d misstepped. When Maggs raises her head, her eyes are wet with emotion, but she’s smiling. She never thought this would happen for her, she explains. She’s not nice enough, not pretty enough, not good enough at batting her eyelashes and swishing her skirt and wearing high heels. Girls with hair like hers don’t get to be wanted. Girls who wear trousers don’t get to be desired. Girls who disobey their mothers don’t get to be loved. But with Lucy - Maggs swallows, her display of emotion as uncharacteristic as it is deep - with Lucy, it’s not a question. The universe had allowed her to love Lucy, and naturally, as if they were born for each other, Lucy loves her.


End file.
